Labyrinth
by TheLadyAranel
Summary: A puppet on Dracula's string Milah Dinu is a cursed werewolf who shares more than a past with the Count. In his control she is sent to kill Van Helsing, but when she learns of his plans she must make her choice: Help kill her master or learn to love him. Re-uploaded with intentions of finishing R


**were·wolf/****ˈ****we(ə)r****ˌ****wo****͝****olf/**

**Noun: (in myth or (non)fiction) A person who changes for periods of time into a wolf, typically when there is a full moon.**

**Cursed Werewolf:** A cursed werewolf is an individual who have been cursed (usually a family curse) or bitten by another werewolf. They are **_involuntary_** participants in the werewolf curse**.**

**Even a man who is pure of heart and says his prayers by night, may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the autumn moon shines bright**

* * *

**~Transylvania, October 1464~**

Despite Lord and Lady Dinu's requests that their daughter stay close to home, Milah just couldn't comply. Her parents' grand Hallows eve ball was well known throughout all of Transylvania, and with so many guests attending, Milah saw her chance to escape to the garden wood. Noting the hour, she convinced herself it would do no harm to get a breath of fresh air and later return home in time to dance the Entwine with a gentleman before anyone knew she had gone. Yes, it was a splendid idea. How could it be anything less than that? With so many Lords and Ladies to entertain, her parents would be well preoccupied, and that meant that their daughter was not to disturb them. Not that Milah had a problem with this: It simply meant she would find her own means of entertainment.

After greeting Lady Mildred and her son, Milah had artfully made her way down the steps of the manor and out into the brisk night. It felt grand to leave the chaos for a bit.

The autumn air was crisp and smelled of leaves and spice; the moon loomed behind indigo wisps of cloud and the sky was void of stars. Dinu manor acted as a backdrop from a scene of a play, drawing ones attention to the brightly lit grand window where figures danced gracefully. Sounds of cellos, violins, flutes, and many other instruments filled the air sweetly, faintly.

Beyond Lady Dinu's garden—this was filled with fall flowers and vegetation—was the Dinu Lake, which glimmered in the moonlight. Black and motionless the waters drew in ones attention with awe. One of Milah's grandfathers had it constructed years ago, and all who came to the manor knew it well enough. It was very vast and the color of dark storm clouds. Most of Milah's parents' guests complimented the lake. They would say it completed the grounds and served as excellent scenery when the Lord and Lady threw one of their picnics. But to Milah, the space seemed dark and sinister. She felt as though it was unpredictable, and if she were to step into the chilly pool she would drop instantly and drown. Once, when Milah was young, she had attempted to swim across the vastness, which proved to be folly. She hadn't even made a dent in the swim across when fatigue took her and she nearly drowned. Had it not been for their gamekeeper (who jumped in and rescued her) the young Dinu would have lost all awareness and met an untimely death.

After the mishap, Milah had been suspended from her daily walks in the gardens. She had been told the reasons for this: one, ruining her new dress, and two, 'acting on her idiotic notions' as her father had so kindly put. Lord Dinu's reprimand did hinder Milah, but still in her dreams she had visions of what lie beyond the lake.

A labyrinth.

On a clear spring day one with fine eyesight could see the tall archway made of stone across the pool. It sparked a curiosity in Milah at a young age. She had questioned her parents about it once, and their replies had been hushed in whispers. Lady Dinu had tried to explain that the labyrinth was not what it seemed, and that the archway that guarded it was much older than the land itself. Lord Dinu on the other hand had been simple and blunt with his response. 'All together evil Milah. Do not dwell on it.'

Do not dwell on it. It was practically an invitation for Milah to cook up mischief. The girl was determined to find a way to cross the Dinu Lake, and explore the labyrinth herself. Someday…

Milah had made her way to the waters edge and took it upon herself to sit for a spell. Sounds of the merrymaking blended smoothly with the sounds of night and made for a marvelous lullaby. In the distance a howl was carried away with the wind, slowly dying somewhere in the spells of autumn. Croaking of frogs in the ponds were faint, while the cooing of a barn owl haunted the nearby trees. If only Milah had been able to sneak her sisters out of the manor to spend a time with her here, like this…they would simply have the time of their lives! She knew however, it was too risky. Their father would have them eating dinner in their rooms for months if Milah were to get them caught. It simply wasn't worth it.

The lullaby of the night seemed to seep into her veins, causing her eyelids to droop with tiredness. Milah had finally sprawled out completely, letting the cold grass brush her skin and take her into a temporary world of dreams. Oh how she wished to lay and sleep forever here in the shadow of the lake. Its beauty was as potent as its haunting aura, which clawed at cage of Milah heart, begging to let sleep take her. Barely able to fight it, Milah felt as though she were under some wicked trance of sorts and yawned hoping to break it.

In the distance another howl echoed through the night. It was an ungodly horrid bay that carried the air of a curse on the wind. Everyone in that village knew its source: a werewolf.

Milah's heart faintly jumped, and the spell of sleep released its hold. It was high time she returned home…

**~Castle Dracula, November 1887~**

Icy shards formed at the base of the chain that held Milah to the dungeon wall. Around her neck was an iron collar, bolted to a long linked succession that gave her no more than a ten foot reach. Beneath her feet thin sheets of ice and snow covered the floor, making the surface slippery. The place was a frozen wasteland. Inhospitable surroundings made a perfect home for the devil-born creature himself.

Milah's flesh took on a blue hue; her lips quivered and her body shook trying to regain heat. No food, little water, and rags for clothing…these were her living conditions. In all reality Milah should have died long ago from hypothermia, but then again, Milah's world was little less than reality. No, her perception of reality had died long ago. It died along with her family, her name…whatever purpose _God_ had for her. Now she lived-no lingered-in a world where God had no rule over her. There was only Master…there was only _Master_.

That name tasted like venom in her mouth, and lingered in her belly like a cold constricted serpent. Vladislaus, she had once called him…Dragulia…Son of the devil. She loved him once…

Anger burned in Milah's veins. It boiled and coursed through her body, warming her flesh and turning her being into something most feral. What love she felt was long gone, replaced by fear and hatred. Milah feared Dracula, and she hated him. What he had put her through…it could not simply be forgiven or forgotten. What Master had done to her...was dreadful.

It was the Count who had Milah chained to the wall. She had been disobedient; she had become too bold.

Master had ordered her to be flogged, and starved and worse yet: Chained to this wall like an animal! How foolish Milah had been with her attempt at a flight. Master had told her she would always serve him…always. He also reminded her it was she who made that choice. Milah could have been free. Free from this were-curse…Milah could have been his…

Somewhere in dungeons a door had been opened. The sound was eerie, like rust against flesh, tearing and slicing. It was followed by another door opening, and then another. Was someone coming to free her from her punishment? Had Master decided she had suffered enough for her disobedience? Milah's heart raced at the possibility that she may be freed but was cut short by the silence that followed.

No one was coming for her. She was alone.

For the first time in years, Milah's eyes stung with tears. Her thin, blue, frost bitten fingers coiled around her collar and she pulled against it lightly. Perceptible cries escaped her small lips, which were cracked and chapped. She was so cold and hungry…so tired and lonely. Milah could fight against this no longer…she would admit she was wrong.

She hung her head and sobbed.

"Milah…" A whisper on the snowy wind called out her name. "Milah…" The accent was thick, coated with vanilla lace. "Oh, Milah…"

_Master._

Milah stood shaking, her hand still wrapped around her iron choker. She could smell him on the air.

"Milah, why do you weep? You know your sorrow entices me so…"

She could not see him, but all the same she knew he was there, hiding in the shadows. "I…I was wrong Master. I shouldn't have run away. I am your humble servant."

Milah closed her eyes and bade her tears to cease as her master chuckled in amusement.

"Young werewolves are so hard to control…but you cannot use this excuse. I should have killed you, but perhaps…I can make an exception…look at me Milah."

The young girl opened her eyes to meet her master's. Deep blue clashed with pale jade in a moment of silence. Her master's hand softly brushed her ice-covered face but she could not feel his dead flesh against the cold of night. Milah could however feel his longing stare bore into her and she knew what he was thinking. It is what he always thought when he gazed at her. Milah would forever remind him of that fateful night…the night of her utmost betrayal.

Her master closed his eyes and growled lowly before opening them once more, bearing fangs and glowing orbs. With the back of his hand he sent her sprawling backwards, brutally bashing her against the stone wall of the dungeon. He did this effortlessly, causing her to draw blood. The Count gazed down at his hand and stared at the crimson liquid before delicately licking it away.

"So sweet. So warm…" He paused and chuckled. "Tonight is a full moon, Milah. I will have control over you again. Your punishment has lasted long enough, I think. Tonight you will travel to Castle Frankenstein…there I have a task for you."

Milah, shaking, stood up from the fall and bowed her head, seething with pain. "As you wish, Count."

Placing a hand to his breast the Count bowed gracefully in return and spun round to leave, and paused only a moment. "And Milah," His voice was low, seductive, and heated. "Do not disappoint me…_again._"

With that, her master was gone.

Standing still for time Milah regained her composure from being tossed about like a rag doll. Looking around she noted that her belongings had been returned and appeared in the corner of the cell, along with her proper clothes and other materials. With frozen limbs she attempted to walk over to dress herself and noticed her collar had been broken. Milah's master had freed her when he threw her against the wall.

Wasting no time, the young werewolf readied herself. The count would need her tonight, and she had a long way to go if she was going to reach Castle Frankenstein by the night's full moon.


End file.
